


I've Been Dead a Thousand Years (And Lived Only Two or Three)

by OverlyCheerfulRat



Series: The Kind of Murder Where Nobody Dies [1]
Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Forced Prostitution, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Multi, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-25 17:47:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18579475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverlyCheerfulRat/pseuds/OverlyCheerfulRat
Summary: Seraphi's guests pay to spend time with her children.





	I've Been Dead a Thousand Years (And Lived Only Two or Three)

**Author's Note:**

> title is from emilie autumn's "gothic lolita"

“Which one?”

Seraphi’s children were bred for beauty. She needed a way to sweeten deals, reward friends, and what could be better than than a night with an Abrasax? Her children knew what was expected of them, and they obeyed so sweetly, played their parts perfectly. Balem and Kalique were delicate, bird-boned little things, and while Titus was just as frail (physical strength was undesirable in a courtesan), he looked stronger and acted bolder. Kalique played innocent in bed, pretended to be naive, claimed she had less experience than her brothers. Balem was quiet, submissive, never cried out or complained.

When her associates came over to dine, Seraphi had her children sit at the table with her, let the guests look them over. It had started when they were actually children, continued once they reached maturity. When they were young, Kalique would giggle and bounce around, asking the guests if she was pretty. Titus shamelessly sat on guests’ laps, wrapped his little arms around their necks, reminded them that he was the baby of the family. Balem didn’t speak unless spoken to, but when he was addressed directly he let the guest coo over his freckles, ask about his interests.

As adults, they seduced guests differently. Balem was still quiet, preferring to single out one person and make them feel special. Kalique talked about politics and business, one dainty hand holding a wine glass and the other creeping up the guest’s thigh. Titus flirted with everyone, allowed them to play with his hair or kiss his cheek. At the meal’s conclusion, Seraphi summoned them to the front of the room, asking her guests which one they wanted.

Once or twice a guest had paid extra beforehand for one of the siblings to “sit with them” during the meal itself. Her three closest friends had all done it on occasion. She remembered Titus sitting close to a business partner, fingering her under the table while he continued talking. Kalique had sat on a trusted pilot’s lap, pressed against him and let him lick sauce off her fingers. Balem had opted to abandon all pretense and simply fellated Seraphi’s favorite cousin while they dined.

If they didn’t like it, that wasn’t Seraphi’s problem. When they were very young, they cried during the act itself, so she had to choose guests who would enjoy that. It was good that they adapted so quickly, although she still had to deal with centuries of night terrors and bedwetting. Generally, they did whatever the guest wanted, no matter how much they disliked it.

Kalique hated groups. “It hurts when they do it all at once, Mama,” she confided to Seraphi. “Toughen up, then.” Titus couldn’t stand bondage. “They hurt me, Mama, and I can’t get away. I have bruises for a long time after we’re done,” he muttered when she asked what the problem was. “I’ll get some pain medication.” Balem cried for days after Seraphi let a guest drug him. “He treated me like a doll, and I felt everything but I couldn’t move, Mama, I couldn’t move or say anything,” he whimpered. “You’ll be better prepared next time.”


End file.
